


Salvaged Goods

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Tags as I go, i had to post this after that trailer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2017-10-11
Packaged: 2019-01-15 23:32:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12331029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The attack on Tuanul doesn't go quite as planned for Kylo Ren. After being ambushed by Resistance fighters, he flees into the desert, where an unsuspecting scavenger stumbles across him...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This I had to post after seeing the new TLJ trailer... I'm sure Rey and Kylo Ren are in two totally different scenes at the end, but the implication is there and boy oh boy, i don't even care about Christmas at this point, I am 110% ready to see Reylo on the big screen

**Chapter One**

 

 

 

The smoke from Kelvine Ravine was thick on the horizon and the dry air was laced with an acrid undercurrent when dawn rotated. It was still pungent from where ever Kylo Ren had fled to in the night.

 _Tuanul_ —the sacred village, of whoms inhabitants affiliated themselves as members of a society known only as the _' Church of the Force '_ —had been a trap. Where originally he and the fool General Hux had believed their primitive hamlet to be insignificant in the eyes of the Resistance and therefor unprotected, they had been sorely wrong. An entire brigade of rebel fighters were awaiting his squadrons after they'd been lightly thinned by the locals' miserable attempts at self defence. They'd been caught off guard and in the confusion, half of his men were blasted into this rock. Despite his pride, Kylo Ren was no dimwit, he knew when to retreat. The rest of the troops would buy him time—he'd been injured, shot by a careless soldier, and left a trail of red stained sand in his wake. He would rather succumb to the desert than be a bartering chip for the Resistance.

The night's events were still very fresh in his mind and he dwelled on them to fan the flames of his temper. It gave him focus, made him stronger, in spite of his condition. But he couldn't live off of hate forever, nor bear his overzealous clothing much longer. Too soon the distilled air in his helmet became feverish in concord with the rising sun. This planet got hot very quickly, he noted. It didn't help that he donned full black attire and had his head encased in metal though.

His breath raked from the muzzle and stuttered on its filter, which was caking sand. It made him feel steadily more and more claustrophobic as he kept pressing on. His oblique began undulating white hot throes of agony the more his body flexed and twisted. He tried to feed off of it like a leech on a vein—lest his legs give out from the tremendous stress he had endured—but it was getting difficult. He wouldn't last long in this wasteland if he didn't find shelter and resources soon; he was close to his breaking point.

From his brief studying of Jakku's holomap aboard the Finalizer flagship, he'd noted a Huttese outpost some place near the targeted settlement, which served as a sort of centre for what meagre civilisation clung to this desolate rock. But those were scrounged from outdated charts and his navigational skills were of little help in such a backwater world, with barely any data or prior knowledge to refer to. He dared to hope only that he wandered in the right direction. All around were high rising dunes and flats of semi-hardened sand. It all looked more or less the same. And there were no signs of sentient life in sight. Come midday, he'd be dead most likely. At least close anyway; probably delirious and cooking under his many layers. A ready made meal for any creatures able to withstand the heat.

His fists clenched hard enough for his palms to ache. The great Kylo Ren, slain by a soldier. And a desert, full of scavengers and lowlife scum, who somehow surpass his ability to survive with their dirty rags and sun-burnt skin. It was cruel and ironic that he should die on a planet like this. He might have laughed, but his throat was bone dry and no sound found its way out. Just then pale sky bled into the horizon and warped unnaturally.

Suddenly a wall of surprisingly soft sand collided with him—or maybe it was the other way around—and he pressed his hands into it weakly. When did he fall down? He knew he had to get up, if he gave in to temptation now, he might never rise again. But the bed of grit was warm and cushioned his weight evenly. He had the will to keep walking, but he was running on fumes at this point, he desperately needed rest. The sand took the strain from overworked muscles—which screamed in protest when he tried to resist—and held him most comfortably. He slowly started sagging into it face down. His body seemed to thank him when finally he let all functions go lax, including cognitive, and succumbed to the dark reaches of his subconscious, leaving his beaten body and the blasted desert behind.

 

 

A small silhouette was seen adjusting a red speeder by the main gates of _Niima Outpost._ It was scarcely dawn—she had risen unusually early to get ahead of the queue and trade in an assortment of parts at the Concession Stand—but already she boiled with frustration.

Rey speared her bo-staff into the netting fastened to the flank of her transport with untoward roughness and then climbed on top. The twin engines spluttered, one and then the other, and the duo propelled her forward sluggishly at first but then at break-neck speeds quite suddenly.

She hissed some Huttese expletive to herself, her brows set in a hard line and her grip on the handles merciless as she accelerated to the max.

The junk boss who ruled supreme over these parts—Unkar Plutt—had devalued her haul again. Sometimes he gave her less portions to make her desperate, though Rey would never lower herself to begging. Especially not from such a grotesque crolute like Plutt. She loathed looking at him for more time than was necessary, and she didn't have the patience to argue with him, let alone his goons (who he sent after unruly scavengers), so she took what little he offered and skulked away from the blockhouse. His gurgling voice trailing her out was like a stain in her ears.

_' That's my girl. '_

Her teeth bared then and she roared above the rumbling cylinders, " _ **Worthless sleemo!**_ "

Needless to say, Rey was not fond of Unkar Plutt. The Blobfish, she often referred to him as. A fitting name for a swollen, congested looking creature that appeared more at home in some deep dark ocean trench, where no one would have to see it.

The sky was lighting up and with it came a familiar heat which chased away the cool night's air. She had her goggles and cowl pulled up to smell the breeze, which usually tasted of sand and rotting metal—though that was moreso in the Graveyard—but today she smelt smoke. It was slightly unsettling, though not totally unusual. But as Rey crossed the barren reaches by Kelvine Ravine on her way home, she clenched the brakes and suddenly the speeder skidded to a halt. Behind the dunes, thick clouds of ash climbed high into the sky, too large to be anything but trouble. She didn't know of any buildings out that way, save for the mystic village of force-worshippers, but who would attack them?

Her face hardened. She kicked the speeder back into gear and swerved toward Kelvine. She told herself it was only to loot whatever was left; maybe they had junk laying around or weapons. Or food and water. But in truth, a powerful calling in Rey's heart pulled her toward the wreckage like a sirens song to weary sailers. There could be wounded who need help.

But as she hurtled along hovering over mounds of sand one in particular made her double take. A lump of black under the speeder as she zoomed by it. What was that? Immediately Rey halted the transport and jumped off to investigate. She snatched her bo-staff just in case though—she was no fool.

Whatever it was, it lay limp in a dark heap of what looked like dyed coarseweave robes. Fine quality too, at least on Jakku. They must be from off-world. Besides, no self respecting native would waltz out into the desert wearing heat-absorbing clothing like that. She reached a hand out and pinched the hem of a swath hanging from its leg. The material was thick and insulating—definitely not a local.

When she circled around it, she noticed a heavy black helmet with what she assumed were locks of hair poking out the base. Could this creature be human? They were very large for a human, at least in her experience, but she'd had little contact with her own kind so she wasn't sure. Gingerly, she knelt down beside the stranger and decided to roll them over. They were face down in the sand after all, and it must not be easy to breathe. Unless they were already dead. The size of the being should have clued her in but they were surprisingly heavy and she had to dig her heels into the ground to flop them over. The head bobbled limply but there were no signs it was conscious—or even alive. She contemplated taking the helmet off but it had some funny muzzle on it which could be a breathing apparatus. If the alien could not take oxygen, she might sign its death sentence by removing its support.

Their mask was certainly a creepy looking thing. It seemed as though it belonged in a nightmare more than reality. It obscured the stranger's eyes and gave them a permanent scowl with those thick silver tendrils along the brow. There was a decent amount of scoring and damage to the matte finish on it too. Was this creature a warrior? A mechanic? Suddenly Rey remembered the smoke clouds from Kelvine Ravine and hurriedly ran her hands and eyes over the rest of its body. Sticky blood clung to her fingers from its side and she bit her bottom lip as she winced. That looked bad. The wound was crumbed in sand and although clotting, she could smell and see fresh blood oozing from the centre. There was no way this stranger would survive out here with a wound that deep. Some feeling gnawed at Rey's innards and she looked away, slumping. She should just keep walking—go to Kelvine and collect a decent haul for herself. She didn't need trouble like this. Besides, the thing would probably die soon anyway. It mumbled something in a broken, distorted cry beside her.

Suddenly that realisation sunk in and she jolted upright. _It spoke!_ She craned down close to its face to listen and immediately noticed a thick oily smell stuck to its clothing.

The head twitched. "Luke..." it whimpered in its crushed voice, and Rey's heart strings pulled taught. It sounded so sad. "...Ben..."

Rey groaned and shoved herself upright. She had made her mind up, but it would cost her. The stranger was in too severe shape to be loaded onto the speeder so she threw her hauling net on the sand near the helmet and knelt on her knees, gently scooping the tall being up from their underarms and dragging them onto the sling. She had to choke back a laugh at the sight—today's haul, a half-dead thing from the badlands. It sobbed softly again though and she sobered herself. On the belly of her transport was a small hook which she could use to safely drag heavy harvests, but the heat from the engines would be unbearable to the injured outsider, so she couldn't do that. It left the only alternative being—

Rey roared into the desert. She was going to have to drag this huge thing. The sun was floating ever higher and the morning began to sizzle. Of course it would be a hotter than usual day, Jakku loved to be an inconvenient host. There was little use just standing around and complaining though, so she snatched the trailing straps up, sending wings of grain flying, and began to heave. At first they barely made any progress; the being was complete deadweight, and ample at that. But slowly she started making leeway and the sand freely parted for a relatively smooth albeit long walk through the barren stretches, back to her AT-AT. All the while it quietly repeated the phrase or name, " _Ben._ "

 

 

His head spun and with the disorientation came lost faces and visions, which danced unrepentant in the absence of reality.

He recalled feeling as though he were moving at some point but by what means, he was unsure. It didn't seem plausible that he would miraculously find his feet again and keep walking while unconscious, or at least teetering that boundary, he didn't know. He supposed he could have been dragged off by thieves and scavengers. Kylo Ren had half the mind to just let them loot him so long as they left him to sleep. He had nothing of importance on him anyway, and he was oh so tired.

A deathly presence stalked his psyche, vague and feeble across the great distance, but spurring terrifying nightmares of his own creation to manifest. An unfamiliar but heart wrenchingly sad cry echoed in his ears, and suddenly pain lanced through his diaphragm. He stared in horror, his own crackling blade spearing right through him and the stench of burnt flesh thickening the air. His shoulders trembled and his spine seemed to wobble, but he was determined to glare his murderer in the eye before gravity could have its way. He looked upon the gloved hand and black forearm attached to the sputtering hilt, up a lightly armoured chest and to rolls of fabric forming a cowl, a slow growing anxiety setting into his bones as he realised it was... _himself_.

Suddenly he shot bolt upright and immediately his head collided with a dense metal bar. It reverberated in his helmet and he clutched desperately at the sides as his skull rung. He heard what sounded like words from close by but was too focused on climbing out of his murky mind to listen.

"Woah!" Someone yelled clearly above the perpetual but dissipating buzz in his ears and hands lay gently on his knees. He glared at them. Who would _dare_ touch him? And then to their beholder—a... _girl_?

"Calm down." She cooed and her big hazel eyes, holding some raw soothing quality, worked their charm. "You're safe. I found you in the desert."

He was in some sort of small shelter. It looked like living quarters and was completely makeshift, but there was something vaguely familiar about the structure. He prodded his hip while he took in his surroundings and felt the angular butt of his lightsaber still clipped to his belt. The air prickled with an energy which he recognised—in fact, the whole planet seemed to excrete it. The light.

Suddenly he stared at the girl in a nonplussed silence. He need not probe her mind to feel that same essence simmering hotly beneath her skin. It was pulsing from her, and where she touched him was warm, though in an esoteric way which only a few would know today as the force.

"Ben?" She abruptly offered and his blood went ice cold, though not out of fear. No one had called him that in a long time... but how did the girl know him? She seemed to sense the shell of discomfort around him then and added quickly, "Sorry, you spoke that name in your sleep a lot. I thought it might be yours... or something."

"No." He ground out and watched her brows fly up like he reminded her of something. She spun around without another word and rummaged behind some heavy crate by a durasteel wall. The sound of shifting sand trickled into the small space and then she returned with a dented canteen clutched between her small callous hands.

"Drink." she told him with surprising authority and when he refused to take the metal flask, she plonked it down beside him with a hollow, sloshing thud. "Or, you know, you can die of dehydration. Whatever your preference is." Her tone held a little edge to it but it came from a place of compassion. Unbeknownst to her he cringed in disdain. She was right, though. He was painfully thirsty and the prospect of water was nearly maddening. But he'd need to remove his helmet to drink and he wasn't sure if he wanted the girl to know his identity.

In the end his thirst won out and he raised his shaky hands toward the sharp lip of the apparatus. Every muscle that activated sent a new pang of searing hot pain racing through him from one injury or another. It was torture trying to get his fingers to navigate the mechanism. He must have been breathing loudly for when he looked upon the girl she was suddenly much closer and with unbarred worry swirling in those big expressive eyes. He contemplated pulling away from her or shoving her back to establish the nature of their exchange, but she was so compelling and he was exhausted. She searched for his eyes in the shadowy visor of the mask as though asking for permission to help, and he begrudgingly tipped his chin up to let her study the clasps hidden beneath.

She seemed to understand instantly, as though she had done it a thousand times before, and pressed the keys in succession of one another smoothly. The helmet hissed and the muzzle extended. The girl looked fascinated and she shuffled onto his legs to get a better grip on the now loose metal fixture, her arms tense from its full weight. Just when she began to gently slide it up his head, he noticed the girl was _straddling_ his lap. A completely unwarranted and terrifying feeling zapped through his abdomen and he scrambled for composure. His master would be disgusted.

The world—which was always tinted darker by his mask—was revealed in soft lantern light and a breath of fresh air met him instantly. He supposed he could blame the redness of his cheeks on the stuffy mask. It was a welcome relief to breathe unfiltered again and he could almost forget about the girl on his knees. She had sat back and was tracing a curious finger along the inner components of his helmet. He took in her splendid image, all mussed chestnut hair and dewy sun-kissed skin freely for as long as she was apparently unaware. When her eyes eventually met his she looked surprised.

"Oh." He heard her breathe and her dusty pink lips parted as the novelty of the helmet seemed to fade, and she turned her eager attention to him instead.

It was a sensation he had been without for years—to be subject to such confident curiosity, and he had to admit, at least from the girl, it was not unpleasant. Interestingly, he felt her gently brush against his mind through the force, like fingers lightly drawing lines down his skin. Though her thoughts and emotions, which should be his to see, completely eluded him. He considered probing the edges of her consciousness for clues but suddenly she shook her head, looking flustered, and refused to connect again. A warmth he hadn't realised was ever there drained from his being, leaving him so quickly that he shivered in its absence.

The girl clambered gracelessly away and hastily mumbled, "Sorry. I didn't think you were human." to elaborate and his brow twitched, amused. Strange girl. He wondered whether she even knew she had tapped into the force.

"Understandable." He crooned hoarsely and winced at the scratchiness of his voice. If only he had some water—suddenly he pinned the canteen beside him with a hungry stare. His hand was on it in a flash and he had scarcely a moment to remove the cap before smashing the hard rim against his teeth and greedily gulping as much down as he could. Pain rattled through his arm and down his back but he ignored it.

"Wait!" The girl cried and her hand found his. She tugged just enough to break the stream and he glared daggers at her, but she was not deterred. "Not all at once. Go slow, otherwise you'll just throw it all back up." She advised and he couldn't stifle the plain shock smattered upon his face. She didn't mention anything about rationing the water—this girl, this _desert rat_ , would give a random stranger an entire canteen for presumably nothing. He could practically feel that tingling light energy radiating from her like a little star. He tried to cringe, difficult as it was. But how in the maker does a local of _Jakku_ have so much compassion?

"I'll make some supper—oh, you were out most of the day. I think it did you good though." She pointed a finger at his side and spoke vaguely, as though mulling over dreadful memories, "That was much worse before."

He followed her directing to a bacta patch plastered over his oblique where he'd copped the blaster wound. She had even shared her medical supplies. Now he was getting suspicious... What angle was she playing at? But when he turned his accusatory glare to the girl, her bright eyes harboured no deception, no coldness, not even the well warranted hesitation at housing him in her home, her sanctum. They looked torturously lonely though. His face softened in recognition of that pain, and he blinked as dusty old thoughts threatened to cloud his own gaze.

He pulled the flask away from his lips and studied her in the dim lighting. "What is your name?" He asked in his brooding baritone way, sounding more or less back to normal.

The girl jolted from where she squat by a small cooker. Some strange green food sizzled away and filled the air with its pungent, artificial odour.

She cleared her throat and wiped sweaty hair away from her forehead. "Rey. My name is Rey." She murmured and then proceeded to eye him expectantly.

"Kylo." He muttered back. It seemed more formal that she refer to him as Ren, but his tongue had betrayed him in the moment and he supposed there was no back-pedalling now.

A warm smile replied to him and he blinked at how indifferent she was to his aloofness. "Kylo." She tested the name, briefly studying the crusty wall behind him as though considering something, "It's nice to meet you."

All he could manage was a fractional dip of his chin. Rey went back to her cooking and he continued to bore holes into the side of her head with his dark stare. She seemed oblivious or at least undisturbed, so he decided to press her somewhat. The edges of her mind were rife with memories—some relating to the task at hand, times when she'd burned herself on the hot dish—and also thoughts, which she was inadvertently projecting a little. It was a mess really, but one thing stood out loud and clear; she had been alone for a long time. The _' who '_ in this situation didn't really matter to her, as long as she had someone to break the cycle of crushing isolation, if only for a short while.

He sat back more comfortably and looked away, examining his options. Although brimming with light, the girl presented a unique opportunity in that her connection to the force, however awkward, was indeed powerful. If she could be made to see the ways of the dark side, she would be a great asset to the Supreme Leader. But the idea brought an unexpected reluctance to prick at his heart. He glanced up at her again as she served the green muck onto two plates—obviously pieces of repurposed ship panel—and frowned deeply. Did he _really_ want to extinguish such lovely light?

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uh-oh somebody's sick ):

**Chapter Two**

 

 

 

Rey awoke to the sound of strangled, gargling breaths. Fear quickly embedded itself in her gut and she spun out of her cot and toward the sleeping form of Kylo. His skin was paler than it should be, and dark circles shadowed the area beneath his eyes. There was perspiration on his forehead and beads heavy enough to trickle down his temple when he shuddered.

 

"Hey... wake up." She shook his shoulder, voice holding a distinct tincture of anxiety. He swayed limply a few times and her mouth began going dry, but then all of a sudden his eyes shot open and he inhaled sharply. He looked like some kind of animal: his wild stare shot around the AT-AT, and his hand flew up to snatch her arm in a vice grip like talons. The leather of his glove squeaked under the pressure. "  _Ouch!_ "

 

At her exclamation he seemed to snap out of it and his fingers became lax, only just dimpling the protective gauze wrappings she wore. He stayed like that perhaps a moment longer than was strictly necessary before his arm very slowly dragged his touch away. She felt strangely depleted without it.

 

"You're sick." She murmured after a little pause, and his hot gaze immediately swung up to her face. "You need medicine..." a sigh made her shoulders rise high and then sag, "...medicine I don't have."

 

He didn't say anything as she pulled her hand to her lips and nibbled the skin around one of her nails. Was he truly worth all this trouble? She would have to waste precious parts on him, which would set her back in rations. She chanced a glance down at him and found him weakly looking at nothing. Then his eyes closed over, though he was not asleep. If it were anyone else, Rey wouldn't think twice about it, but there was something... she didn't have a word for it. It gathered to him and set aflame a burning curiosity within her.

 

"What're you doing?" She found herself asking in fascination.

 

Kylo seemed to register her late but mumbled, "Meditating." all the same.

 

 _Meditating?_ Odd. Rey had never met anyone quite like him. There was something almost familiar about him, an air or perhaps way of being which she recognised, but at the same time he was completely alien to her—and it had nothing to do with physicality. He was quite beautiful though, beneath the sheen of sweat and off-coloured patches blotting his skin, unlike other human males she had seen. His face was carved on angular features, his eyes large and sensitive and far too telling, and waves of dark locks framed it all nicely. His lips were full and looked soft and, for a moment, she allowed herself to wonder...—

Immediately Rey grimaced, forcing herself up abruptly. What was she thinking? She had more pressing matters to consider. In an tousled flurry of flowing garments she rose and grabbed her bo-staff (and also two power converters), reaching for the rotating dog lever on the AT-AT's belly, and not sparing her guest a second glance as she made her way out into the desert.

 

 

 

 

 

The girl left quickly, and he had no intentions of stopping her. Her mind was a frustratingly charming thing that wondered freely where it pleased. Her more prominent thoughts were easy to snatch up when he concentrated enough, and he saw exactly where they dwelled when she believed he was not aware. Had this been years earlier, he might have sported a roguish smirk, but all Kylo Ren could manage was a shallow frown. It wasn't that the attraction was one sided—it was a mutual thing, he could not deny—but he couldn't shake the feeling that inevitably, no matter how he worded it, he would betray her. She was much too encompassed by this toxic light to see his vision of greatness for what it was, he decided. At least, not yet.

Sweat ran toward his eyes so he scrunched them shut and pinched his nose. There wasn't much for him to do in here other than contemplate, meditate, or sleep. None of which really interested him. But his body was weak, he knew better than to test its bounds now. He wasn't entirely sure he would ever recover. It seemed unlikely to him that a rock like Jakku would have any assortment of medical supplies. Though the girl had come across bacta patches at some point, that was probably down to dumb luck. And he doubted the First Order would come looking for him any time soon either. Not that he deserved their aid—he had failed his mission. His master would want him to suffer for his mistake, of that he was sure.

His chest rose and a shaky whoosh of air billowed dust in front of him. He supposed sleeping would pass the time faster. He allowed the vague thrumming of the force around him, however poisoned by the light, to lull him into a peaceful dreamless slumber, filled with the distant millings of life forms thinking loudly about scrap metal and their empty bellies...

 

 

 

 

 

Rey jumped off her speeder with a puff of sand and hooked her staff over her shoulder. She wasn't entirely sure who would sell the medicine she needed; Unkar sold supplies, food and sometimes bacta, but he never had anything so privileged. Her eyes narrowed against the glare of the sun as she searched the Outpost for off-world traders. Sometimes they brought with them precious stock from planets far more hospitable, not to mention wealthy, so they were a good place to start.

 

Immediately she noticed a large spacecraft with two huge engines and a thin docking ramp was stationed across the yard of caked land. Crates decorated its shadow and three shifty looking figures guarded them. This could be promising.

 

Slowly she made her way over, eyeing them carefully as they snorted at suspicious scavengers who wandered too close to their goods. A potential buyer fled when a blaster was half-drawn from the holster. Whatever the local had to offer was not substantial, she surmised.

 

"You there!" A strangely accented voice called to her, and she looked over to see one of the trio approaching in a hollow show of friendliness. "Can I interest you in some exotic curios?"

 

Rey took a step back as the man, she assumed anyway, got a little too close for comfort. He eyed her like a nightwatcher worm eyes unsuspecting droids.

 

"Uh. No thank you, but do you sell medicine?" She asked as politely as she could.

 

The trader looked mummified; his skin was callous and wrinkled and seemed inflexible, and his dark eyes looked tight and reptilian. Small bone horns poked like sharp teeth from his jaw as well. Rey wondered what kind of race he must be.

 

"Of course!" He flashed a toothy grin, complete with two false metal caps and one missing all together. A rich stench wafted from his mouth that almost made her cringe. "This way." He folded one arm behind her back and herded her toward the crates on display out side the ship. His attention still stained her ever now and again as they walked, something she was very much aware of. "The good stuff is inside," he promised, but Rey shook her head, she was not so gullible to trust that she'd ever return home if she boarded.

 

"Maybe another time. What do you have out here?" She forced the words to be earnest, even if she had no intention of meeting with the creepy outsiders again.

 

He seemed disappointed and a glimpse of his true nature bit through in his icy stare, though he remained all business and colloquial in his voice. "Oh, more medkits than you can count. A ship just isn't complete without one! You—"

 

"Do you have any antibiotics? For... infection?" She quickly asked, cutting through the slathering salesman act like soap on grease.

 

He clasped his hands together and grinned again. "Yes, of course." And then he retreated to the many crates, returning a few minutes later with a thick vial filled with bright blue pills that clattered when he held them up.

 

"How much?" Rey kept her power converters hidden away so as not to show her cards too early. She didn't like the look of this guy, he could easily scam her.

 

"That depends..." the trader's mouth twitched with mischief, "What do you have to offer?"

 

She weighed up her options. One converter alone may be a lot to pay for a measley vial, but Rey had no currency to compare to—only that a power converter would fetch her nearly three whole portion packs at the concession stand, which she considered a lot, and antibiotics were a rare luxury, so they must be expensive... right? Her brows bunched together and she sighed. She really needed this vial.

 

"Will you take trade? One of these for the medication?" She held up the converter and took in the way the man's eyes widened at the prospect. Yes, one would be ample. Still, he tilted his head and made a drawn out hissing sound between his teeth, looking unsure.

 

"Do you have any more?" She payed special attention to his face as he spoke: she knew his game, he was trying to leech more from her than his end of the deal was worth.

 

Her own face hardened. "No. I can go somewhere else..."

 

"Oh, no, that's fine!" The trader quickly back-pedalled, "Lucky for you I am willing to make a special bargain."

 

Rey hummed. "Yes. Lucky me." Her hazel eyes glinted knowingly, and more of that concealed coldness seeped out from him as they exchanged their pieces. "Good trading." She pseudo smiled but this time he remained stone faced, and parted ways in silence. A word flitted around her mind, supplying a name for them as she watched the three snag passer byers and try to entice them to buy merchandise: _pirates_.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The tranquil nothingness of his sleep was abruptly shattered by the screeching of metal close by, and Kylo sprung awake as Rey clambered inside the shelter. A waft of hot air and spraying sand chased her in.

 

She seemed surprised that he was up, and something like relief spilled into the look they shared, before she gingerly approached.

 

"I got these for you. I don't know how good they will be, though. I hope they're worth it." The girl offered him a vial held between her hardened little fingers and he was suddenly plagued by a repulsive sense of gratitude and filthy appreciation that she would scrounge medicine, some how, out of this hell hole just for him. When he didn't immediately take it, she gently placed the container next to him as though it were made of the finest glass in the entire galaxy and turned to retrieve another canteen from where she stashed them, half buried in cool sand. When she reappeared, she dipped her head pointedly at the small bottle. "Take one tablet for now, no more."

 

"You waste these on me." He found himself snarling bitterly, but immediately regretted the tone as soon as he had spoken. His spiteful stare melted readily away like winter frost in spring when he looked upon her sweet face. What divine temptation she was—the embodiment of his pull to the light. He hated it.

 

She stared for a good while and said nothing more to him, but left the canteen within his reach, and quietly left the hovel again. He watched her go and growled under his breath. Who was this girl and how had she nurtured such kindness in this land of crime and injustice? He had a feeling he would keep asking himself that.

 

His eyes flicked down to the gifts she had left for him and a scowl sundered his profile. He didn't like debts. But if he was to survive and find his way back to the First Order, however disgraced, he would need to heal. The force could only do so much.

 

He sighed and threw his head back in frustration. He could sense the maelstrom that was Rey just outside the shelter, still burning bright, but shadowed by sadness. He felt a tug of intuition and rolled his face exasperatedly toward the far wall. Immediately he froze and his lips pursed into a hard line.

 

Etched into the panel were countless marks in snaking rows from top to bottom. Although he had no definitive explanation for their origin, something told Kylo this was a calendar of her days spent in solitude. He swallowed thickly, studying them. The phantom energy that clung to that wall was heavy with longing. There must be thousands of them...

 

The vial and canteen caught his attention again and he solemnly considered them. Perhaps before he had truly realised, he was clicking open the plastic cap and doling a chalky pill out into his waiting palm, all done in silence. He took a swig of metallic tasting water and grimaced at the unpleasantness of it. Blasted girl.

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two scavengers are always better than one. I wonder what mischief they will get up to next chapter? Hmm..... (;

**Chapter Three**

 

 

 

His eyes tore open and fear raced like a speeder overhead through him. The residue of his nightmare clung to the present and in a delirious moment, fuelled by adrenaline, he let a guttural scream out.

 

A voice yelped from near by and he used it like an anchor to secure him to reality. He heard rummaging and scrambling in the dark, and then the fiery orange of lantern glow lit up his world. He found the girl twisting the dial at its base hurriedly.

 

"What happened?" She asked firmly, her bo-staff held tightly to her side. She looked fleetingly around with an accusing glare, as though she felt her home had betrayed her, and then let her searing attention rest on him. "Are you okay?"

 

He swallowed thickly and readjusted himself where he lay. It was gratingly difficult to wrestle with his pride and whisper a faint, "Yes." in reply. He wasn't sure she even heard though.

 

But the girl's face softened. She propped her weapon up against the wall and shuffled closer. Kylo tried to look away, to break the spell she seemed to cast whenever his eyes met hers, but it was proving to be a feat too great. The stability and comfort she offered was like sticky tar—once touched by it, he was a goner, and the more he struggled the worse it got.

 

"Are you okay?" She repeated as she settled before him. There was an almost... desperate, pleading look about her, but why? He could not decide. It wasn't that she needed him to confide in her, it was more like she had glimpsed something within which she related to—for the first time, with anyone.

 

He felt compelled to speak. "Yes. Only—"

 

"Night terrors?" She blurted out and his expression must have confirmed for him, for she went lax where she had been tense and waiting prior. "I know all about those." Her eyes were on the floor for a good while, leaving him at liberty to study her face in the half-light some more. She was so beautiful, her features delicate—lovely, he dare say—but she was also strong; her go-to hard brow and heady stare gave her the prowess of a fearsome warrior, somehow not at odds with the rest of her features. She was a perfect balance between two natures, a being to be reckoned with.

 

He sensed her desire to speak, yet she held her tongue. Half formed words were mouthed, but she seemed ultimately to think better of it, and shook her head quickly.

 

"It will be dawn soon. You should try to sleep some more." Was all she ushered before returning to the lantern and twisting the light down. She cast one last look his way, and then rolled the dial up a notch or two to keep the shelter just lit enough for visibility, but still dark enough to fall asleep.

 

When he was sure she had rolled over, her breathing deepened, he allowed himself to smile—if only a little—at her idiosyncratic way of thinking.

 

 

 

 

 

First light came far too soon. Rey rocked out of bed with a tired sigh and rubbed her face. Kylo was still sleeping, the dark mound that was him covered in a plaid sack-cloth blanket, peacefully void of movement.

 

Perhaps she was letting her anxieties get to her, but she could not shake off the skittering fear that he was too still, not until she crept over silently and draped a hesitant hand onto his side. Ribs expanded and contracted slowly beneath her palm, and her gaze upon him calmed.

 

Content, she moved away and began puttering with the place she kept her scavenging gear in, near the ration pack compartment. Her stash of portions had gotten considerably smaller since taking in the bedraggled outsider from the badlands, and Rey was becoming very aware of the extra unoccupied space it left in her belly. It was probably even more apparent to Kylo; he, unlike her, was well-built and far from scrawny, he must be used to routine meals. She looked back over her shoulder and her lips pressed into a hard line. Soon she would need to venture out again to continue providing for them.

 

She wasn't sure how long he would need to recover from whatever happened to him—she still hadn't asked, she didn't want to pry. Part of her longed for the quiet she had lost with his arrival, and yet...

 

He caught her attention as he began to stir, groaning and pushing his thick hair out of his eyes.

 

Rey sighed forcefully. He looked up at the sound and they shared a long exchange. He was such frustratingly pleasant respite from all she'd learned to cope with.

 

"I'm going scavenging." She finally broke the silence and by the upturn of his mouth, she could tell he held the vocation in little esteem. "I'll be back before sun high, you should keep resting. And remember those." She pointed her finger at the hard earned vial and then began wrapping her arms as she always did, to keep sun exposure to a minimum.

 

"Allow me to join you." Kylo suddenly said when she was done with her accouterments, and she blinked at him in surprise.

 

"But you're still weak—"

 

"I am fine." He growled and the dismissive nature of it made her wince inwardly. She didn't catch the next expression to cross his face, but she definitely heard the almost gentleness when he added, "Do not worry over me. You have done enough of that already."

 

Rey's lips parted. "I-I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be." He chided awkwardly, and stumbled through his next words like they didn't fit right in his mouth. "Please. Allow me to repay my debt."

 

She considered him for a moment, fingers unfurling from fiddling with her gauze and instead lightly holding her chin. Perhaps there was something he could do that didn't involve strenuous climbing. "Repay your debt you say?" When he nodded, a playful smile brightened her face up. "You look strong. But how strong?"

 

"I'm not sure how to answer that...—"

 

"Strong enough to throw really high?" The question made him frown but the corners of his lips had to repeatedly dimple, lest he grin. "See, there's a dreadnaught that crashed years ago... _**Ravager**_ , it's called. It has a level I've not been able to reach. Very few have gotten to it. There's a rebar I've tried to use as a levy, but I can't throw my rope that far." She looked up hopefully and leaned forward. "Maybe you can?"

 

"Alright, scavenger girl. Tell me where this _**Ravager**_ is?" Kylo grunted as he pulled himself out of the low cot. He seemed to only then notice that his thick outer layers of clothing had been removed, and he was in only his sleeved undertunic, pants, and gloves. He gave her an unexpectedly wry smirk and she was instantly flustered by it.

 

"Don't you look at me like that! You would have overheated!"

 

Probably the rarest and most novelty sound she'd ever heard rumbled from his chest then—a _laugh_. She stared, nonplussed, at the charming character that had suddenly emerged from the otherwise aloof man she had come to predict.

 

"As you say."

 

At least he seemed to be feeling better. She wondered if he was always like this, when he wasn't suffering so greatly from deep flesh wounds and infection.

 

"Come on!" Rey snapped as crossly as she could. Her cheeks were burning and she was struggling to compose herself. A shadow cast itself on the door as she unfastened the locks and she turned to see Kylo—his neck craned down, for he was too tall to stand straight—waiting there patiently. "Are you _sure_ you're human?" She narrowed her eyes and then gawked, "You're _huge!_ "

 

Where she might have expected his attitude to dampen again, she saw only that grin from earlier finally win the fight onto his face, frisky and good-natured. He darted his hand forward to pinch her shoulder and she squealed, scrambling through the AT-AT's entrance, with him chasing after. They carried on like children for a rare moment on either part, but then suddenly he jolted still, staring at her home behind them like he'd seen a ghost.

 

"...So _thats_ what it is." He mumbled vaguely. "I thought it was familiar."

 

"What, the walker?" She waltzed over, panting a bit, and sealed the door shut to ward off any would be thieves that might come snooping.

 

He looked at her in a curious way. "You've been here all along?"

 

"Not always." Rey's spirits drooped like a flower in lack of light and water. Memories of her childhood with Unkar Plutt sobered her and she looked off at the hazy horizon, gripping the strap of her bo-staff tightly. "For years now, though. I'd defend it with my life."

 

His mood seemed to have become sullen too and he watched her with measured eyes. "Tell me about the ship." He offered, and she blinked out of the reveries she'd fallen into.

 

"It's huge."

 

"Like me?" He japed, obviously trying to lift the heavy atmosphere around them.

 

"Like many of you. Probably far too many to count." She smiled, perhaps a pinch forcefully, and crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm going to assume you aren't familiar with Jakku. The dreadnaught is in the _Starship Graveyard_ —that's where all the fighting happened, before I was born, I think. Long ago."

 

"Is it far?"

 

"Not as the speeder glides." She repositioned her hands on her hips and cocked her head at her red repulsorlift bike, which was parked by the AT-AT's half buried strut.

 

It was very special to her; she'd gone back out into the desert to retrieve it the day she'd left it behind, in favour of hauling him home. Part of her was very vulnerable to his critical eye—the entire vehicle was custom made, she'd built it in parts pulled together from all manner of places around Niima. It was a testament to her creativity, her resourcefulness, and her understanding of the technologies it bridged. That was something she desperately did not want Kylo to deem poorly.

 

He raised his brows and slowly advanced on it. His inspection had her waiting with bated breath, and when he inquired of its origins, she obliged skittishly. His glove ran along the gritty chassis, then he turned to look her in the eye at last.

 

"This is very impressive."

 

Rey double took. What? It was the last thing she had expected him to say.

 

"The turbojet engines are a nice addition." He commented and then suddenly proceeded to drag his leg over the metal saddle as though he'd done it a thousand times before. He seemed to enjoy her bewilderment and asked, "Are you coming?"

 

She gaped. "  _Yes!_ " And stomped over, pulling her goggles over her face, and crunching sand loudly underfoot.

  
Pride fuelled her as she swung herself into the gap between the throttle prongs and his solid form, but immediately it became nothing more than a meagre whisper against the blaring response her body had to his fingers pressing into her hips, his knees nearly slotting into the backs of her own. At least he had the decency to lean back as far as the transport would allow, but even still, the closeness got under her skin.

 

Rey swallowed hard and kicked the speeder to life. His grip tensed when they started moving, and by the time they hit full speed, his hands had shifted to her belly—something that was very distracting, but she fought for focus by concentrating on the desert instead. Blasted man.

 

 

 

 

 

  
Rey guided them through a maze of jagged metal peaks and the rotting carcasses of once great imperial vessels with such flippant ease. Her quick reflexes helped her out on more than one occasion, swerving her free of potential crashes, which he was sure anyone else would have hurtled straight into. The force was with her, but so raw. So unrefined.

 

When at last she slowed the craft to a stuttering stop, they were at the foot of a massive thrust nozzle, half-claimed by the desert. There were two others on either side, proportionately close, but in reality quite far away—one of which was collapsed.

 

"It'll take some manoeuvring, but we can pass through to the shaft I told you about here." Rey told him, pulling his attention away from the hulking wreck. She had pushed her goggles up and was tugging a long cloth rope from the sling of her speeder, winding it around her body. Sweat gleaned on her forehead and she wiped a hand across it. "Ready?"

  
"Lead the way." He nodded and the two made for the engine.  
 

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short but sweet (;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to just say right here that the most intimate thing I've ever done with someone was hugging on a couch so I have no idea what I am doing, or how things should go, it's all based on smut I've read lmao. I hope this isn't too bad, and that you can enjoy :P

**Chapter Four**

 

 

 

 

 

The deeper they pressed into the fuselage of the dreadnaught, the less light there was to guide them. But the girl didn't seem to have much trouble moving through the sprawling darkness.

 

She had her scarf and goggles pulled over her face again and a thin blue beam shone out from the corner of one lens, offering a small amount of supplementary visibility. He wondered if the optics held some scotopic property, considering the confident way she leapt and swooped through narrow ways and beneath treacherous overhangs.

 

She continually turned back to help him over a few wrecked obstacles, even as he scaled others easily when she wasn't looking. He enjoyed the spark of electricity he got from touching her. Yet it also terrified him. The way each gentle brush of skin on skin seemed to shed a rough layer of callousness from him, revealing a man he believed dead... it was equal part intriguing and unnerving.

 

Just then her movements slowed and he sensed some disturbance about her. She held a hand out—which he walked straight into—to stop him, and he eyed her expectantly.

 

"We're not alone."

 

Ren frowned. He had not felt any other beings nearby, he was sure he would have known.

 

The girl's hand scrunched into his tunic and she then wrenched him into the shadows. He nearly fell on top of her, and would have, if he didn't brace himself in time. The light was clicked off and they squat in silence. He could hear her breathe, feel the sweat trickle down the back of her neck. It was slightly, startlingly, maddening.

 

An inkling only then alerted him to potential danger and he tore his eyes away from Rey to squint at the gloomy tilted passage ahead.

 

Then voices echoed out, speaking some foreign language he had never heard before. There was the jostling sound of something large and heavy moving about. Some sort of animal? A native? Whatever it was, it seemed enough to wisen the scavenger.

 

His hand hit the hilt of his lightsaber by his waist. And yet when he glanced back at her beside him, she had suddenly loosened and sighed in relief, leaving him utterly perplexed.

 

"Ah. Don't worry." She mumbled sheepishly, "It's just a Teedo."

 

He echoed the odd word inwardly as they started progressing deeper into the ship again, eventually passing the being in question, as it jerked its limbs at them and cursed. He scowled down at the foul little thing.

 

"Here." Rey said and tugged him toward an open turbolift shaft, tilted on a slanted angle like most other parts of the ship carcass. She began unwinding the fabric from around her middle. "Can you see the rebar?"

 

His gaze followed her directions to a mess of beams and steel branches. "Which one?" He asked, frowning, and immediately stiffened when she pressed close to him and her lean arm pointed upward from beneath his chin. For a moment he struggled for breath, seeing the way her teeth bared and one eye scrunched shut.

 

"  _Look!_ " She scolded and nudged him with her shoulder, jabbing her finger at the thing again. He tried to hide the small smile as he obeyed.

 

Between three spikes of sheared durasteel was an intact rod that bridged the top of the shaft. It must be what she was on about, even through the gloom he could tell it was stable. The framework it leaned on was not eroded by sand or rust either.

 

"Ok. Give me your rope," he pawed blindly for it while keeping his eye on the prize.

 

He could feel her worry eating away at her as she watched him judge the distance and shift his weight, preparing to swing the looped end toward the bar.

 

Ren failed to repress the smirk that pulled at his face as he imagined himself ripping open and bleeding out over something so outlandish. Creating a levy for a scavenger girl in the guts of the imperial dreadnaught, **_Ravager_**. On _Jakku_.

 

He sank his teeth into his lip and snapped his shoulders firmly, sending the rope flying high into the shaft, and guiding it to its destination partly with the force. Perhaps he had been slightly overzealous, but part of him wanted to impress her. Not quite the same way he longed for Supreme Leader's favour—this stemmed from a different want. One his master would likely punish him for indulging.

 

The dangling end that draped over was too high for him to grab. He cast a sidelong glance at Rey, seeing she was otherwise distracted, and then pulled it to his waiting palm with some careful suggestion. When he turned to hand her both ends she looked at him like he'd grown another head.

 

"What was _that?_ " She gaped. Ren felt his ears begin to burn, and thankfully the anger and embarrassment at that boyish tendency gave him the strength to steel himself.

 

"What was what?" He replied confidently, almost confrontationally, and watched her falter.

 

She pouted, nibbling the inside of her lip. "Never mind." And began securing the long fabric into two buckles on her hips. Then she paused, looking up shyly from beneath her gleaning brow. "Thank-you."

 

He watched in fascination as she wove her forearms into the taught lines and then in one smooth movement, leapt onto the wall of the shaft, leaning her back out and using her grip on the rope to haul herself higher. He had to admit, the sight of her backside swaying with each long step was hardly unpleasant.

 

Ren bit back the filthy expression that tried to surface upon his face. He couldn't remember a time in recent history when he'd felt so immature. He crossed his arms and jut his hip out, though wincing when he noticed a sting on his side. His gaze wavered on the scavenger and then traveled down to the blaster wound. A patch of his dark tunic was damp already. He might have frowned and blamed the damned girl, but then her sudden exclamation of joy echoed down to him and made him freeze.

 

All he could do was stare as she grinned back from the gloomy level above, before her head vanished from view.

 

He could hear her rummaging around up there, the sounds of hollow metal things clanging and solid parts clunking. She cursed a few times, but cheered quietly more often than not—he wondered if she knew how well the shaft resonated her movements.

 

Eventually the throb that had grown on his flank brought him to rest upon the gritty floor. He could feel his clothing was wet now, but whether that was with blood or sweat, he could not decide. He barely noticed that the girl had clambered down. Not until her boots thudded firmly before him, and startled him out of a consciously ambiguous state which he hadn't even realised he was dwelling in.

 

"Are you okay?" She asked. He tried to cringe when she let her haul of hard earned things clatter unimportantly beside her, and rushed to kneel next to his legs. "Kylo?"

 

"Yes." Ren grumbled. "Did you find what you were looking for?"

 

He felt her gentle touch test the flesh around his tender side and sighed.

 

"I knew this would happen." Rey whispered guiltily, "I'm sorry. I should never have brought you, you should be resting. Healing."

 

He shook his head and glared back, but it held little fire. "I made my bed and I intend to lay in it."

 

And then something completely unexpected happened. The pain... it ebbed, and then flowed away, like waves receding on a shoreline. He blinked in surprise to see what had charged, and gaped when he saw that the girl had closed her eyes and was _healing him with the force._

 

The shock at her advanced ability far outweighed his contempt at having been treated by the light. Her palms glowed softly—but she seemed oblivious. And when at last her eyes flickered back open, it faded.

 

Ren still stared, utterly nonplussed.

 

She seemed self-conscious at the sudden attention and rubbed her upper arm nervously. "Sorry. I wanted to help."

 

"How did you do that?" He asked reverently, surprised to find the husky rasp at the end his voice. As was she, apparently.

 

Her cheeks were rosy and she avoided connecting eyes with him. "I don't know..." she glanced up briefly, and then reddened more. "I-I imagine an ocean. I want the pain to go away, I want the wound to heal. I think of the ocean doing it for me." She admitted, "I've never done it to some one else though."

 

It was impossible to deny that she was impressive. From her continuity to her raw aptitude with the force, he was deeply and irrevocably enchanted by this girl.

 

Before he even knew what was happening, he had leaned closer and his hand had carted into her hair, fingers slipping between soft buns, and his lips testing hers. The kiss was chaste and unsure, and he pulled back enough to search her eyes soon after. What he observed was a myriad of conflicting things. Surprise, and then fear, uncertainty. But a fierce undertone like flames simmered beneath it all, and when that heat rose to melt her inhibitions, his heart sped up.

 

She came to straddle his lap and his hands found her hips as their lips met, feverishly this time. Her touch shifting to his shoulders and exploring down his back set loose a primal need, and he growled possessively as he pressed her to the metal beneath them and began kissing and sucking his way down her neck. His hips slotted between her thighs and black arms stabilised him on either side of her head. 

 

"Kylo..." Rey breathed and a hot wave rippled straight through him, gathering in heavy swells in his lower belly. He brought his lips to her ear and nibbled the soft skin.

 

But two small, trembling hands on his chest made him pause. "Kylo..." She whispered again, and he forced himself to look her in the eye with clarity—in spite of the voice goading him to continue. "We need to get back..." She swallowed, her pretty eyes filled with so much vulnerability that he found the empathy to sober himself.

 

"I'm sorry." Ren stammered as he rolled off of her and they both sat there awkwardly in the echos of passion. "I misread the situation."

 

"No," she told him unexpectedly. "You didn't. I just need time." She looked away and something about her suddenly seemed so much younger, "To... figure things out." 

 

"I understand." He dipped his head and got up to collect her sling of goods, swinging it over his shoulder. She blinked in appreciation, a small smile on her lips, and lead the way back out.

 

All the while Ren was left worrying the inside of his cheek over the implications of this development. What was their relationship going to be from now on? How was he to explain himself?

 

More pressingly, how was he to explain that his attraction to this girl was not solely a physical one? Ren swallowed and clenched his fists.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so things get a little hot in the Ravager


End file.
